


Just. No.

by frnklymrshnkly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humour, M/M, anti-leatherpants!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frnklymrshnkly/pseuds/frnklymrshnkly
Summary: How does Draco hate leather pants? Let him count the ways.





	Just. No.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is J.K. Rowling's. No copyright infringement intended and (definitely) no money being made here.
> 
> I wrote this a while back for disapparater's prompt at DRACO'S KINKS AND TROPES BIRTHDAY PARTY 2015 on LJ. 
> 
> Original Notes: disapparater, I can only apologise for this. This is the second tiny bit of fiction I have ever posted, but your hysterical prompt just wouldn't get out of my head. I really hope someone gives it a proper treatment for you.

"No, Harry. Just. No." says Draco, firmly and a little too loudly. A few other patrons turn and glare at him.

"C'mon Draco, why not?" Harry whinges.

Draco draws in the exasperated breath of one whose patience is being sorely tested. He plants a hand on the clothing rack from which Harry has pulled the offending item and clutches the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his other hand. 

"You know exactly why not." He wants to leave it there, but whatever patience he thought he had seems to have deserted him along with the prospect of having this argument. Again. And in _public_. "I have told you often and in great detail why not. I have both alphabetised and categorised my reasons why not. I have barely stopped short of writing a treatise explicating why not. Why do you think it is, Harry, that you cannot seem to retain this information?"

"I just think you'd look fit in them, Draco. I thought Purebloods were supposed to be stylish? What would former generations of Malfloys and Blacks have to say if they knew about your stance on these fashionable trousers?" Harry inquires, waving the ghastly things between them as he gestures beseechingly. 

"I know exactly what that they'd say," Draco responds. 

He removes the hand on his face and begins counting off his list on his fingers. "First, they would begin by congratulating me for my steadfast refusal to lower myself to donning such déclassé apparel simply to draw attention to my bottom, which looks spectacular in proper trousers, I hasten to add. Second, they would agree with me that any garment typically found decorating members of a girl group or around the ankles of a man receiving fellatio in the loo of a bar is an offence to good breeding and good taste. Third, they would note that sweating and squeaking when one walks is a plea for help, not a fashion statement." He pauses for a moment to see if Harry is taking any of this in. Harry, he finds, just looks pained. 

"Fourth, they would express confusion about how anyone could delude oneself that discomfort is the sign of a good fit. And finally," he raises his tone for emphasis and counts off his last extended digit, "They would applaud me for refusing to become a walking cliché, despite your unceasing and increasingly pathetic attempts to convince me otherwise."

"But Draco," Harry implores, "they're _leather_."

Draco levels a narrowed gaze at Harry and prods him aggressively, pushing the abominable trousers into his chest as he does so, "Exactly."


End file.
